


All the flowers

by Bagarella25



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aran is a charming prince, Bokuto is a dork, Canon Compliant, Consent is Sexy, First Kiss, Hana Yori Dango, Heated Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oikawa is a whiny toddler, Olympic Games, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Shoujo, What's new, kissing in the dark, kuroo is a dick, ushijima is a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagarella25/pseuds/Bagarella25
Summary: Bokuto pines over Aran, so he makes up a stupid plan to confess his love.or as Nation would say : "Bokuto your gay is showing"
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Aran Ojiro, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	All the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! (◕‿◕✿)  
> And by everyone I mean the five AraBoku fans who by miracle stumbled upon this fic.
> 
> The world needed this, so I made it. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> This is the first and only Aran x Bokuto fic on AO3 and I’m very proud of it.  
> Let’s cry and shout together about AraBoku.
> 
> I want to thank @TeddyKrueger__ for her review on this Aran characterisation.
> 
> AND OF COURSE I have to thank @itsNationJoy for their editing work on this.  
> Guys honestly, you can thank them too because they’re the reason your eyes won’t sting while reading this. Baby I love you and I think this fic is very good and it wouldn’t have happened without your work.
> 
> Please enjoy.

“I’m telling you, I need a plan. We’re leaving tomorrow and we will be on vacation.” Bokuto takes his head in his hands, “I couldn’t find any occasion to kiss him since now!”

Bokuto and Kuroo are taking their breakfast at the dining area where volleyball teams and other team sports were assigned during Japan’s Olympics Games. The dining hall is huge and there’s a lot of people around them, but hopefully the ambient chattering covers Bokuto’s voice as he’s shout-whispering to Kuroo, defeating the purpose of whispering in the first place.

“I don’t know Bo,” Kuroo waves around his chopsticks, clearly exasperated from Bokuto’s energy this early in the morning, “Just go to him and tell him you want to kiss him.”

“I can’t do that Tetsu! He is Aran Oji-!”

Kuroo clears his throat loudly to inform him he is talking at a normal volume again. Normal for Bokuto, which means loud.

“He is Aran Ojiro!” Bokuto shout-whispers again, throwing his arms around to add the emphasis his whispering is missing, “I can’t just go and ask him if I can kiss him.”

“And why not?” asks Kuroo furrowing his brows.

“Be-cause!”

Kuroo knows there’s no point in arguing with Bokuto when he is in this type of mood. He looks around and sighs. Everybody is eating peacefully, the games are nearly over, the ones who’ve won are happy, the ones who’ve lost are now over it. The mood is nice, the last thing on the list before leaving is the huge party that the volleyball campus is throwing tonight and everyone is looking forward to it. Even Ushima Wakatoshi, who’s eating two rows of chairs from them Ushijima  _ stern and serious _ Wakatoshi has a faint smile on his face. 

Yes, the mood is definitely ideal for a party. Except Bokuto and his mood swings are already ruining the day.

“I should try and do something at the party, shouldn’t I?”

Bokuto’s shoulders are visibly slumping, and even if Kuroo is already tired of the day ahead and of the finalisation for the party  _ his _ committee is organizing, he can’t let Bokuto overthink himself. He needs him fresh and energized for tonight.

“When you say a plan, you mean like one in a shoujo?” From the corner of his eye Kuroo sees Ushijima  _ Japanese national team player _ Wakatoshi is glancing towards their direction. The big, beefy volleyball player must be wondering why those two grown ass men are talking about shoujos at eight in the morning. He lowers his voice, “Like Nana or Hana Yori Dango?”

“Yes! Exactly!” exclaims Bokuto before lowering his voice down once again, “Yes! They always have great plans to seduce their lover in those mangas.” Bokuto chews his lower lip, furrowing his brows in an intense concentration, “What are they doing? I can’t remember, those shits are old Kuroo. Are we this old already?”

“Yes we are,” answers Kuroo while shoving the rest of his tamago kake gohan is his mouth, “You could try this scene from Hana Yori Dango where someone turn off the lights and then she bumps into the guy and kiss him,” he says, spilling rice everywhere, “This stuff is super cringy though, I remember she doesn’t really like it when-”

“You’re right!” Bokuto shouts (for real this time, no whispering involved) while standing up and slamming his palms on the table. For sure now everyone around them is looking at them and Ushijima  _ Super Ace _ Wakatoshi has one more story to add to Bokuto’s odd behaviour list.

Bokuto sits down slowly, remembering he is not alone in the dining area and realising his burst of noise may have hurt some  _ coping with the olympics frenetic rhythm _ brains. He glances around him with a  _ sorry for the disturbance _ look on his face before continuing.

“I could totally do that!” he says, getting back to the shouting whispering, “I could turn the lights off then kiss him, and when the lights are on again, who’s in front of him?  _ BAM _ ! The one and only Bokuto Koutarou!” He slams the table once again, Kuroo is just resigned at this point, “Thankfully I know someone from the volleyball committee who’s helping setting up the party.” Bokuto adds, winking at him.

“Ugh, you are insufferable you know that? I’m not gonna turn off the lights during an official olympic party just for you,” Kuroo heaves a sigh, “Plus your plan is stupid, why would he be okay with the fact that you kiss him without his consent?”

“Because!” Bokuto shouts before adjusting again, “Because, it will not be a kiss, I will ‘ _ bump into him by accident’ _ ,” he mimics the quotation marks with his fingers, “And when the lights come back I will apologize profusely but then our eyes will lock and we will realise both at the same time that we were in love with each other this whole time.” He clutches his hands together, “It’s the perfect plan Tetsu!”

“You’re stupid.”

“I know that,” Bokuto looks at him with a big smile across his face.

“It’s not gonna work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m telling you.”

“I disagree.”

His friend smiles for the first time since they woke up this morning. “I’m not turning the lights off during an official committee party.”

“Oh but Kuroo please, please, please!” Bokuto suddenly grabbed his hand, “Pretty please?”

He looks at him with big glassy eyes.

“You’re stupid,” Kuroo says once again.

“We already covered that.”

Kuroo glances towards Ushijima  _ sorry I’m too strong _ Wakatoshi, who is eating his spinach with the same smile quirk a little more up. In the background, towards the self-service area, he can see Iwaizumi and Oikawa approaching their long table. Kuroo looks back at Bokuto.

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbles, “But you owe me one!”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Tetsu!” Bokuto yells before kissing his hand, letting a wet patch on the top of his fingers.

Kuroo wipes it on his thigh while Iwaizumi is sitting beside him.

“No not here Iwa-chan! We’re not eating with Ushijima  _ muscle brain _ Wakatoshi!” Oikawa says, chin tilted up, obviously proud of his sneering.

“Shut up Shittykawa, he is one of my players, so if you don’t show him the respect he deserves, you can still go eat with your team.”

“But Iwa-chan! It’s the last day we can see each other before I go back to Argentina!”

Oikawa Tooru has this particularity that, even if he is a tall and handsome world class volleyball player, when he speaks to the Japanese team’s athletic trainer Iwaizumi Hajime, he acts like a whiny toddler.

“Then shut up, sit down,” And in this relationship, Iwaizumi Hajime is the duck mother, “and eat your vegetables.” He looks over Kuroo, refusing to give more attention to the giant baby still standing up, “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing!” blurts out Bokuto, making it obvious that he is trying to hide something.

Kuroo stares at him for a second, reconsidering the life’s choices that made him face this precise situation, then turns to Iwaizumi and says, “Tonight’s party.” Iwaizumi tears his confused gaze from Bokuto to look at him. “Are you guys going?”

“Of course we’re going,” says Oikawa, finally putting his tray, rather loudly, in front of Iwaizumi’s one, “There’s no chance I’m leaving before I show everybody my dance moves.”

“You ain’t showing anybody shit. The Olympics may have finished, but now is not the time for you to break something. You have a gold medal to live up to now.”

“Oh~ Someone’s jealous Iwa-chan~?” coos Oikawa.

“Bokuto slap him for me please,” commands Iwaizumi.

Bokuto executes the order without hesitating.

“Wha- Why did you do that Bo-chan?” Oikawa is red from embarrassment, “Why did you ask him to do that Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Because I knew he would do it.”

“Sorry Oikawa, he's the boss, I can’t refuse a direct order.”

“It’s not the army Bo-chan! There’s no direct order or whatever!”

Kuroo has had enough of volleyball players for the morning, “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen,” he stands up and picks up his tray, “I’ve got a few details to watch over before tonight.”

He leaves the table and Bokuto winks at him.  _ Good job buddy, not obvious at all. _ While he’s leaving toward the exit, he could swear he sees Ushijima  _ stoic and neat _ Wakatoshi chuckling covering his mouth, chopsticks in hand.

  
  


***

  
  


It’s ten in the morning when Ushijima  _ big frame _ Wakatoshi comes to find Aran to tell him the weirdest thing. He has just finished packing his stuff, ready to leave the Olympics campus. They are in the hall in front of the dormitories, where Aran was about to get himself a bottle of tea from the vending machine.

“You’re saying Bokuto-san is planning on to turn off the lights during tonight’s party because he wants to bump into me...” Aran doesn’t understand what this is about, “But what for?”

“I did not hear this part of the conversation, but I thought it could be dangerous and I thought it was better to warn you.” Ushijima  _ kind and responsible _ Wakatoshi is a good man and a wonderful volleyball player, but he sometimes lacks some useful social skills. “I don’t approve of Bokuto-san’s behaviour but I didn’t have the time to talk to him as Oikawa Tooru was arriving.”

Ah. Oikawa Tooru is Ushijima  _ soft baby  _ Wakatoshi’s kryptonite. Of course he lost all sense of reality when he arrived. The man is so obsessed with the guy that he had been caught cheering for him during his own match against him for nothing less than the gold medal. Iwaizumi-san wasn’t really upset as the play was indeed awesome and he himself may have pumped his fist secretly in victory, proud of his childhood friend, during the said play. 

Aran can’t figure who is more in love with Oikawa between the two of them.

“And is it all he said?” Aran doesn’t know what to do with this information, “What were they talking about?”

Ushijima  _ probably in love with Oikawa Tooru _ Wakatoshi blinks several times before answering, “I think I heard them talk about a kind of manga specified in young girls.”

“Do you mean they were talking about girls? Hentais maybe?” Aran stares at Ushijima  _ oblivious _ Wakatoshi. How come two grown men talked about hentais during breakfast in a crowded area- Oh right. “They were talking about shoujo mangas weren’t they?”

“Yes I believe those are the terms they employed indeed.”

Luckily for Aran, Ushijima  _ good boy _ Wakatoshi doesn’t ask for any explanation on the term  _ ‘hentai’ _ .

“Alright, I think you gave me plenty to think about Ushijima-san. I’m gonna keep this in mind and,” Aran isn’t sure what else to say to him, “Try to be careful around Bokuto-san tonight I guess?”

“Are you asking me Ojiro-san?”

“No, no it was rhetorical Ushijima-san,” Aran chuckles.

“Did I say something funny?”

He is adorable, but Aran definitely can’t say that to one of the top aces in Japan, “No, I just thought about something funny Ushijima-san, excuse me.”

“You don’t need to excuse yourself.” Ushijima  _ adorable _ Wakatoshi bows at him, “I’ve got to go now, I’m meeting my family at noon.”

“Oh say hi to your father for me. Have a good day Ushijima-san, see you tonight.”

“See you tonight Aran-san. Good afternoon.”

Aran looks at him walking away, his now-cold bottle of tea still in hand. He opens it and drinks a glup. 

What is this all about? What is the connection between shoujo mangas and turning off the lights during the party tonight? And what for? Bumping into him? 

Aran drinks another glup of his tea and stares at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the information he just got. Bokuto is certainly a strange guy. Aran is used to his antics, but this time he can't figure out what type of scheme he seems to be involved in.

He goes back to his room to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, when it strikes him.

"He wouldn't try to pull out a Hana Yori Dango on me wouldn't he?" he says aloud dumbfounded. 

Hopefully nobody's around to hear him.

No, he wouldn't. Of course he wouldn't. That would mean Bokuto Koutarou has a crush on him or something. The man is always showing off in front of girls during matches, he is  _ not _ gay. He is this well-built dude bro guy always cheerful and radiant. People love him. He is a wonderful player and he always lifts everybody's mood, inside or outside the court. The perfect prototype of the straight alpha male.

Aran loves this about him though. The man is always good company, and even though he is sometimes weird, he is always a delight to talk to.

Okay, maybe Aran noticed a teeny tiny thingy in the way Bokuto always looks at him with big admiring eyes, but it's only because he's a good player who can acknowledge the performance of his peers. It's very flattering, but it doesn't mean there is something. And it's true that lately, Bokuto spends most of his time with him, following him everywhere, but it's just some healthy companionship between two volleyball players during the Olympics Games. 

Plus, let's be real, nobody thinks mangas apply to real life… Although, it wouldn't be the first time one of his teammates would have made such reflexion… Nah, nobody is stupid enough to try and actually apply a manga scene to a real life event… Although, it's Bokuto he's talking about…

No, he wouldn't. Aran shakes his head in disbelief of himself and his crooked mind to imagine such a thing. He opens the door to his room and enters. If Bokuto wanted to kiss him there are plenty other ways to achieve it, and trying to reproduce a famous scene from a manga is too absurd, even for Bokuto. 

  
  


***

  
  


Aran is a few steps in front of him. Their last briefing with the coach just ended. Now is a good time to execute the first part of his plan and casually ask Aran if he's planning to go to the party. Because as Kuroo said,  _ "Before you ask me to do something highly unprofessional maybe you should check if your stupid crush is even gonna show up tonight." _ And he is right. Not about the stupid crush part though. Aran isn't stupid. Aran is anything but stupid. He is strong and calm like a mountain but he also can be as powerful and relentless as the sea during a storm. 

He is also super clever and so, so relatable. At first Bokuto admired him as a player for his strength and his game sense (like everyone does). He has always been one of the top players in Japan, even in highschool he was always above him in ranking, and Bokuto has always respected him for that. Aran also has a lot of fans, maybe more than Bokuto himself. But then he enrolled in the Japanese national team with him and Bokuto got some time to get to know him. 

He immediately fell in love with him. 

Besides his physical abilities, Aran is also a force of nature. Always kind, always smiling, giving advice to whoever comes seeking for it. He has a heart of gold and he wears it on his sleeves.

In addition, the man has such a fine face. Two full lips under a round nose topped by two big, beautiful dark eyes with the longest lashes Bokuto has ever seen. 

Aran is not like any of the other athletes Bokuto knows. He is way more delicate in every way. He always smiles politely. He is poised and charming like a prince from an old fairy tale, and he smells so, so nice. He is not the type of man to pour the whole bottle of musc deodorant on himself in the morning.  _ You know the one. _

Bokuto doesn’t know how Aran does it, but he always smells like flowers, a different one each day. One day linden, the next lily of the valley. Bokuto still remembers that day in the locker room when Aran stripped his shirt after a particularly sweaty match and the man was smelling like roses. Bokuto never dared to ask what his secret is.

"Bokuto-san? Are you feeling alright?" 

Bokuto comes back to earth and Aran's face is suddenly very close, staring at him. Oh no _. He _ was staring at Aran!

"Yes!" Bokuto is caught off guard by Aran's beautiful face, "Yes! Yup! I'm good! And you?"  _ The plan Bokuto, the plan! _ "I mean," Bokuto tries to compose himself before continuing, "Are you going to the party tonight?"

Aran looks uncertain for a second, Bokuto's heart misses a beat.

"Well yeah, I'm going," he looks up and down at Bokuto like he's analysing him under a microscope, "And you?" he finally asks.

"Yes! Yes, I'm going! I'm going, and you're going, we're both going!"  _ Bokuto calm down! _ "We should go together!" _ Bokuto shut up! _ He laughs nervously hoping his blabbering would be catalogued as his usual weirdness.

"Well we could but," Aran scratches the back of his neck, "I suppose as our rooms are all beside each other, we will kind of go all together with the team anyway."

"Oh yes, you're right! Of course! Yes, it makes sense I guess." Bokuto doesn't know what to say because he didn't think any further than this and honestly only had one part on his plan yet. But he doesn't want to end the conversation either because he's speaking to Aran and it's always a bliss.

So he says the very first thing that comes into his mind. 

"Do you already know what you'll be wearing?" The second the words leave his mouth, Bokuto knows what he said was weird, or stupid, well the usual but still. "If you don't know, I could help you choose!"  _ Nice save Bo _ . "I mean, it's not like I think you need help or anything-" 

"I'd like that, yes."

Aran has a soft smile on his face and Bokuto can't help but feel lucky to be the one to witness it.

"Ah yeah? I-I mean yeah. O-okay, I’ll be here around six."  _ Smooth Bokuto, you stuttered but smooth. _

"Okay see you later then Bokuto-san." As Aran is walking his eyes linger on him.  _ And is he blushing?  _

Bokuto watches Aran walk away and feels bubbles of joy and anticipation rumbling in his guts. He  _ kind of _ has a date with Aran later.

_ Fuck, he totally has a date with Aran later. _

  
  


***

  
  


When Bokuto came to see him after the team meeting, Aran had the impression something was different. Bokuto was flustered and jittery like a puppy dog waiting for a stick to be thrown to play fetch.

Aran can't stop thinking about his previous intuition about Bokuto having a crush on him. Isn't it weird that Bokuto asked him if  _ he could help him choose what to wear to the party?  _ Who does this? They're Olympians going to a committee party, not some dudes going out to some club downtown.

_ Weird.  _ This word again. Aran has been thinking about this word an awful lot of time concerning Bokuto since this morning. Actually, Bokuto has indeed been very weird since not only this morning, but since… Ever actually. Well, then again Bokuto is  _ always _ weird, it's part of his charm, but it's true that he has a certain way of behaving around him that Aran has only observed with himself. Not with Kuroo nor with any other player of the team. 

Between that and what Ushijima  _ deep voice  _ Wakatoshi told him earlier and the short conversation they just had, Aran begins to think his gut might not be wrong.

Or maybe his gut is just building an illusion based on his own hopes and expectations.

Either way, Aran is looking forward to his little  _ tête à tête _ with Bokuto.  _ Only to try to clear things up _ , he tells himself.

  
  


***

  
  


It’s 6 pm, Aran must be expecting him. Bokuto knocks at the door and the knot in his stomach tightens. Aran opens and  _ oh boy  _ he’s bare chested. Bokuto’s eyes drop and stare for a second before getting back up to Aran’s flushed face.

“Ah sorry, I just took a shower,” he signs him to enter, “come in Bokuto-san.”

The room smells like fresh flowers and Bokuto wants to bury his nose in Aran’s neck to get more of the scent.

“It’s ok,” Bokuto says in a breath with all the confidence he can muster even if a major short circuit is occurring into his brain at the very moment.

_ Get a grip, you can do it. _ Aran, like the majority of the wild life of the Olympics Games, has a ripped body. All well-placed muscles and good fat where it should be. He has that perfect volleyball player body type, lean but strong. His frame is delicate but power is hidden under his deep skin. 

The mere thought of it makes Bokuto shiver. 

He tries to compose himself while Aran bends down to reach his travel bag and  _ oh my fucking- this ass! Is he doing it on purpose? _

“I’m actually happy you’re here, because I really don’t know what I should wear,” he turns his head to look at Bokuto, still bent over his bag and he looks absolutely pornographic. His tight butt finely shaped by his black skinny,  _ oh boy so skinny _ jeans, “We’ve been wearing sport clothes non stop, and I’ve brought some dress shirts,” he grabs some clothes from his bag and stands back up,  _ thank you lord _ , “I feel like, because it’s a party organised by the committee, everybody’s gonna show up in their jersey,” he chuckles, and it’s the most beautiful sound Bokuto has ever heard, “I thought maybe Kuroo-san would have told you what the dress code is.”

“Ah! Ugh…”  _ Words Bokuto, words! _ “I don’t know anything about a dress code, I think it’s pretty chill.” Then Bokuto remembers it’s his chance to see Aran in nice clothes. “But I heard the girls are gonna wear dresses and stuff.”

“Oh, ok so dress shirt it is. Which one?” asks Aran while stretching his arms to show him two pieces of cloth, one dark red, the other blue with white patterns.

Bokuto takes his chance. “Aww so you’re not gonna put them on to show me?” He tries to put on his most seductive smile, all teeth out. “Me who hoped to have a private fashion show by the model of the team.”

Aran huffs a laugh. “I’m not a model!”

“Right, right, says the one whose face was plastered all over Tokyo to promote the team.”

“I saw yours once or twice as well …”

“You were everywhere!” Bokuto sits on the bed, his confidence recovered, “You’re handsome, just saying.” He leans on his elbows and tries to relax, “So? Gonna humour me or not?” He pushes back a strand of his hair, hopping to add some nonchalance to his question. Even if he’s actually shivering with  _ antici-pation _ .

Aran heaves a sigh. “... Alright, but I have only two and you have to help me choose.”

Bokuto pumps a mental fist in the air and tries to look as poised as possible. Aran puts on the blue shirt and buttons it almost to the top letting peek a part of his dark skin chest. Bokuto has only one wish, and it’s to lick every bit of Aran’s skin to find out how it tastes. But he tries not to salivate when he says, “Yeah nice, can I see the other one?”

Aran unbuttons the shirt and Bokuto gets the impression everything is in slow motion. He would give everything to be the one unbuttoning this shirt right now. Or even to be one of the buttons. 

He knows he’s blushing, and no matter how he tries not to, he is on the verge of bursting into flames. When Aran pulls off the shirt, he glances in his direction and Bokuto is melting. Aran is also blushing, though it’s more faint. He looks uneasy for some reason. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s undressing in front of Bokuto. Of course they’re not in the locker room changing after training right now, but still.

Bokuto looks sideways, embarrassed, while Aran’s putting on the second shirt. He looks back when Aran gets his attention.

“So what do you think?”

Bokuto looks back at him and  _ oh boy again _ red is really his color. It compliments his skin tone so well. He looks like he’s about to walk some red carpet in his ever so tight black jeans and his well trimmed beard.  _ Ah _ , but the buttons are misaligned.

Without thinking, Bokuto gets up and in two strides reaches for Aran’s shirt and begins to unbutton it to make it right. In the middle of his work, he realises what he is doing and suddenly freezes. He slowly detaches his eyes from his hands to look up at Aran who’s staring at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

Bokuto wants to step back and he mentally screams at his hands to let go of Aran’s shirt, but he doesn’t move. He stares back. 

He should do something. The situation is weird, but he doesn’t. He is like under a spell and won’t move until Aran says something. 

But Aran doesn’t. 

Bokuto lets his eyes drop to glance at Aran’s lips, still parted, then looks back up, shallow breath escaping his mouth,  _ or is it Aran? _ The moment lingers. Bokuto wants to lean forward and kiss him, but it’s not part of the plan. He is supposed to kiss him tonight, in the dark, not here in a way less romantic situation, in one of the stinky olympic village bedrooms under these ugly neon lights.

Suddenly, someone knocks at the door. Bokuto jerks away, Aran still looking at him with wide eyes. The door opens and Kuroo’s head appears.

“Bo, I need to- Oh~ Am I interrupting something?” Kuroo coos with a lopsided grin drawing on his face.  _ That cat bastard. _

Bokuto realises what they must look like, the two of them blushing like redlights and Bokuto with his hands on Aran’s half unbutton shirt.

“N-No, you’re not interrupting anything!” Bokuto almost yells.

Kuroo's smile doesn’t flatter, “Yeah right,” he crosses his arms on his chest, “if I’m not interrupting anything, can I see you Bokuto? There’s something I want to look over with you for tonight.”

“Ah right.” Bokuto straightens his shirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, “Hmm this one looks perfect on you Aran. See you later.” And Bokuto passes Kuroo to leave the room as fast as if some evil was chasing him.

When he is safe -- far from Aran’s room, where the corridor turns -- he crumbles against the wall.

“What was that?” asks Kuroo who followed him.

He slowly looks towards Kuroo. “I-I don’t know,” he put his face in his hands, “Everything was fine, then he put on the dark red shirt and everything went blank in my mind!”

“Don’t worry,” Kuroo laughs, “I think he wasn’t very against whatever was happening in there.”

“What?” Bokuto perks up to study Kuroo’s face, “Why are you saying that?”

“Did you not see how he was blushing?” Kuroo crosses his arms on his chest looking down at him. “You are one lucky bastard my friend,” he snickers, “Get up now Bo, you have a guy to conquer tonight.”

  
  


***

  
  


_ What was that? _

Bokuto had left. No, he had fled. Faster than the wind. Aran could swear something was definitely happening between them a moment ago. 

Bokuto was so close to him that he could feel the warmth of his body on his skin. His calloused hands were almost touching his chest and his big and soft golden eyes were looking through his soul like he was about to-  _ To what exactly? _

Now the door of his room is still open from when Kuroo came in searching for Bokuto. Aran is still frozen in place, his face is warm and his mouth is still open, he has to remember how to close it. When he gets back to himself, he takes a deep breath, surprised by the absence of air in his lungs. 

He passes his fingers over his lips. They’re tingling.

  
  


***

  
  


Aran arrives at the party with Atsumu and Yaku. Well, more like he stumbled across them in the corridor in front of his room and Atsumu had asked him if he should wear a tie because Yaku implied his outfit looked stupid without a tie. 

People tend to do that, talk to him without prior invitation, ask him for advice. He must have a face that says  _ “Yes please come talk to me, I’ll listen to whatever nonsense you want to talk about.” _ They're bickering at his tail like two middle schoolers when he passes through the swinging doors. And  _ oh _ this place is huge. 

The room looks like a hotel reception ballroom, but the size of a gymnasium. And it’s crowded. Aran didn’t realize that almost all the team sports section of nothing less than the Olympic Games would be present. He wonders how he will be able to find Bokuto in this crowd.

He has to find him. They have to talk about what happened between them earlier. Aran has never been one to let things happen without figuring them out. He’s an adult and a professional athlete now, there’s no place in his life for unspokens and quid-pro-quos. It can be scary, but sometimes scary can bring the best with itself.

But first, maybe a drink.

  
  


***

  
  


“Man this place is huge!”

“What do you think? The committee doesn't joke around when it comes to taking care of it’s players.” Kuroo grins and looks over the room, like a king on its land. “Better find your pretty boy, stupid owl.”

“Hey! I’m not an owl anymore,” Bokuto pouts, “I’m a jackal now!” He puts his hand in claws in front of him and makes a roaring sound.

“Right,” Kuroo looks at him, not impressed, “You know you’ll have to change your haircut eventually. One day you’ll run out of excuses for your bad taste.” Then he adds, deadpan, “And jackals don’t roar.”

Bokuto makes a squawking sound. “Kuroo! Rude!”

“Ugh, sorry I’m tired,” Kuroo pinches the bridge of his nose, “Anyway I’m gonna go, my work at the Olympics is officially over,” he looks at his watch, “and I have to meet Kenma for the evening.”

“What?” Bokuto jumps in place, “But you promised to turn off the lights for me tonight!” Bokuto presses.

Kuroo snickers, “What do you take me for?” He waves a hand in front of his face with a sly smile on his lips, “I’m not stupid enough to do the dirty work myself,” he put his fists on his hips, “I paid a newbie to do it. You owe me two thousand yen by the way.”

“Wh-”

“Oh and he will not do it at 9 pm like I previously told you, but precisely at 8 pm.” He looks at his watch once again, “You have exactly four minutes to find your future boyfriend.” Kuroo winks at him cheekily.

“What?!” Bokuto looks flabegadtered, “Kuro-”

“Good luck, stupid jackal,” Kuroo walks away toward the entry way, and wave a blind hand to him, “Have fun.”

“Fuck!”

Bokuto looks around, trying to find Aran through the crowd. There’s so many people! Kuroo expecting him to find one single person in four minutes in this huge room full of so many big and tall athletes is beyond him. That cat bastard! He must have done it on purpose. He set him up for failure. He never thought Bokuto’s plan would work, then he made it impossible to succeed.

Unless, Bokuto finds Aran in the next four minutes.

_ Okay, no time to fuck around Bokuto, you can do it!  _ Bokuto engages himself through the thick crowd. He has to make it work somehow!

  
  


***

  
  


Aran has been here for thirty minutes already and there’s still no sign of Bokuto anywhere. How could he have missed his big, boisterous, owlish teammate? Bokuto wasn’t the type of guy you could miss in a crowd even if you tried.

Aran searches through the bar where he left Atsumu and Yaku in a stupid drinking contest he didn’t want to be the referee of (or be one to pick up the pieces of what would be left of them later). He also wanders through the crowd, here and there, greeting people he knew. He even searches near what looked like the store rooms, but the only thing he finds is Oikawa and Iwaizumi in the middle of a making out session / serious dry humping activities. He feels bad because they stop when he stumbles across them, Iwaizumi mumbling apologetic words, Oikawa dragging him by the wrist with a smug smile on his face.

It’s almost eight, and there’s still no sign of Bokuto.  _ Where could this loud jackal be? _

  
  


***

  
  


Bokuto can’t believe it. He stressed all day about his plan, about finally kissing Aran, and he won’t be able to accomplish it because Kuroo set him up and now he can’t find Aran before the lights go off. And he will certainly won’t find him  _ when _ the lights are off. 

Bokuto searches everywhere meticulously. He passes to and fro through the crowd, bumping into people along the way. He tries to apologize to everyone, but he has no time to wander off. Better let them think he is rude.

He is now at the other end of the reception from where he started his posse and he doesn’t see one bit of the gorgeous volleyball player. Well, he sees various gorgeous volleyball players, handball players, and even water polo players, but none of them were the one he was searching for.

It’s impossible. He is sure he went through every inch of the gigantic room, Aran must be hiding somewhere. It’s only a few seconds until eight, Bokuto passes his fingers through his hair in dismay. 

The lights turn off.

The place is very dark, but Bokuto is not one for giving up. This was his idea after all, his plan. He has to make it work. 

He decides to keep searching, and if he has to bump into more people to find Aran and have a chance to kiss him, so be it.

  
  


***

  
  


Suddenly, the whole room goes dark. A collective sound of annoyance erupts from the crowd of people who were previously dancing and chatting. The music is still going on, and if Aran didn’t know better he would have thought it meant someone must have accidentally bumped into the switch. But no, of course this is what Ushijima  _ considerate _ Wakatoshi was warning him about.

_ Does this mean Bokuto is really trying to pull out a Hana Yori Dango boat scene on me? _

Aran shakes his head in disbelief. Of course not, and now wasn’t the time to think about shoujos. He has to find Bokuto, even if he doesn’t know what he would say to him once he finds him.

The lights are still off, which means that either the switch is very hard to turn on or the lights were shut off directly on the electric panel, somewhere in the building. That would mean that it could be a while before the power turns back on.

Aran is still alone, near the store rooms where he surprised Iwaizumi and Oikawa having “intercourses”. Too bad Aran is on a quest to find his teammate; they would never have been disturbed otherwise. He secretly hopes they took it somewhere more intimate. Where Ushijima  _ kind heart _ Wakatoshi wouldn’t encounter them inadvertently.

Aran looks at his phone. 8:05, and still no lights. So  _ it is _ the electric panel. There’s no way he can find Bokuto in this darkness. He heaves a sigh. He really hopes this wasn’t a Bokuto idea because it really sucks, and people have started getting irritated on the dance floor.

Suddenly, something crashes so violently into him that he almost falls down. It must be someone huge, broad and rock solid, because his nose is itching from the impact.  _ Damn athletes. _

“Sorry, ma’am.”

When he hears the voice of his unfortunate aggressor, Aran’s arm automatically reaches for the shape in front of him. He grabs their jacket in a firm clasp to prevent them from walking away. 

It takes him two milliseconds to figure out what to do. 

It is one of those moments. Like when he plays a match and Kageyama sees a breach in their opponents defense; no time to ask himself what to do or how to proceed. In those moments, his body just moves by itself and follows the flow. Right, left, right, jump, stretch, align, then spike. In volleyball there’s no room for hesitation when a ball is set up perfectly; when an opportunity appears.

Aran firmly pulls the figure towards him then puts his other hand on their chest. He has to make sure he is not mistaking. He slides his hand upwards, mapping the other’s body, trying to figure where the shapes lie. He reaches their shoulders and slides higher,  _ their neck _ , higher,  _ their face _ .

Now he is sure to whom the voice belongs to.

Lower,  _ his mouth _ . Aran strokes his thumb over the lips to make sure of where his target is before crashing his own lips onto the spot.

  
  


***

  
  


Bokuto is pulled backward so violently that the air is chased out of his lungs. The woman he just bumped into is apparently not satisfied with his apologies. He barely has enough time to realise that said woman is actually a man before lips are crashing on his mouth. His first reflex is to jerk back, but the hand clutching at his jacket is keeping him firmly in place. 

Then he feels the plumped lips and the smell of peonies. 

He reaches with his hands to be sure. He cups the face against his palm and feels the well-trimmed beard and the fine jaw. There’s no doubt. By some uncanny twist of fate, Bokuto’s plan has come to its end and his lips are now pressed against Aran’s.

Bokuto, surprised, parts away from their kiss. His breath is shallow and his mind feels dizzy. He can feel Aran panting against his skin, warm and shaky.

“Aran…” Bokuto’s eyes flutter close, hands clutching around his partner's jawline. He can’t believe what is happening, and he is afraid that when the lights go on he will wake up from this sweet dream.

“Yes?” Aran asks, breath unsteady, uncertain, like he might have done something wrong.

Of course Bokuto is surprised and doesn’t understand why all of this is happening, but he is not one for second-guessing and he is counting on making the best out of the opportunity he has been granted. Bokuto has still a heart to conquer. 

He plunges right back in to kiss Aran.

It’s a bit messy at first. He doesn't know where to aim, so his lips land on the corner of Aran’s mouth. But he readjusts quickly and kisses a mouthful of those sweet, sweet lips. 

Bokuto melts into the kiss. Never had he thought that Aran’s lips would feel this soft and warm, though he is sure the man moisturizes. He licks over them to have a better taste. Bokuto's whole body tenses up, expectant, wondering how his audacity will be received. 

Aran answers to his eagerness by parting his own lips as an invitation to come in. Bokuto shivers and darts his tongue further to explore the other’s mouth.

They stay like this, clinging at each other for dear life. Kissing, mouths discovering each other. They have no idea how much time has passed. It could be hours they would be none the wiser. 

Bokuto is overwhelmed by the scent of flowers. His hands explore along as well. Aran’s short buzz cut hair, his nape, the tight muscles of his shoulders. He wants to feel more of it, for the memory of Aran’s bare chest still very present in his mind. He presses his body against Aran’s, hooking his arms around his neck, making sure they’re flushed against each other. Aran lets out a gasp, which is immediately swallowed by Bokuto. It’s feverish, hot, and wet. Their lips glide together, not letting any room for air or hesitation. 

Bokuto can feel Aran’s fingers loosening their grip on his shirt and coming at his sides. He trembles when he feels the warmth of his hands sliding past his jacket to finally rest on the small of his back, urging him closer than he already is (as if it could even be possible). Bokuto hums into the kiss and Aran claws into the fabric of his shirt in response. 

Bokuto’s head is spinning, but he wants more. He shifts his weight onto one hip, freeing his other leg to slide his knee between Aran’s legs. He tightens his arm around his neck as he presses against the other’s crotch. Aran yelps a moan and his whole body shivers, causing both men to break away.

They’re both panting, still impossibly close, but neither of them initiates another kiss.

Bokuto fears he might have gone too far.

  
  


***

  
  


They stay like this for a moment. Aran is awfully embarrassed by the sound that escaped his mouth a moment before. They stare at each other as best they can through the obscurity, but they can still feel each other, hot and shaky. Both of their breathing is heavy and the room around them is so dark that the world doesn’t seem to have an end. The moment is over, but neither of them is parting away. 

Aran lets go of Bokuto’s shirt and reaches for his arms, still hanging around his neck. Bokuto lowers his face and rests his forehead against Aran’s. He doesn’t make a sound, either too afraid to speak or simply catching his breath.

Suddenly, the lights come back on. It has the effect of an electroshock and they both jerk away like they had touched fire. People around them are cheering at the return of light. Aran’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden luminosity, blinking multiple times before he can focus on the man in front of him. 

Bokuto looks absolutely gorgeous. He is wearing grey pants with a matching jacket over a baby pink dress shirt now half tucked out of his slacks. His cheeks are red, contrasting beautifully on his pale skin, and his lips are flushed and glistening wet. He looks utterly adorable. 

Aran wants more. 

The thought surprises him. He couldn’t imagine one day wanting to wreck someone so badly just for the pleasure of witnessing them being a mess.

He tears his mind away from this to focus back on the present though. He doesn’t know what he is supposed to say or do. Yes he was the one who initiated the kiss -- and without asking for consent on top of that -- but now that the lights are on he isn’t sure of anything anymore. What if Bokuto thinks he is a bad kisser? What if after seeing him in broad light he thinks Aran is ugly? Or worse, what if Bokuto didn’t know that it was Aran kissing him and is now freaked out because he sees who’s in front of him? He knows those thought are all stupid and false but he can’t help them. His heart is racing.

Bokuto is the first to move. He tucks back his shirt in his pants, passes a hand through his hair, and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry-”

“No!” Aran blurts out.

He doesn’t know why Bokuto is apologizing, but it’s certainly not what Aran wants to hear right now. Bokuto looks at him with two big owlish eyes.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice gets quieter as he continues, “I’m the one who should apologize. I-I,” his voice his trapped in his throat, “I didn’t mean to force you to-”

Bokuto cuts him off, “No, no, no, hey no, don’t say that!” He comes forward, grabs his wrist and looks around them. “Come, let’s find a better place to talk.”

  
  


***

  
  


Bokuto draggs Aran into the maze of corridors that the Olympic center is. At some point he turns around.

“We could go to my room if you want?”

“No!” Aran says a bit too quickly, “I mean it would be a bad idea…” he clears his throat, “If we want… to talk, I mean.”

Bokuto takes a second to register what he is saying. When it finally clicks in his brain, a laugh rumbles from the pit of his chest.

“Alright, alright, let's find a quiet place to talk then,” he glances around, “That mustn't be too difficult as everyone is partying anyway.”

Around a corridor’s corner, they find a small sitting area lightened by the sole neon lights of the vending machines. They sit by each other's side, both refusing to look at the other. They’re surrounded by some fake plants and a few trash cans. The decor couldn’t be less appropriate, but as professional athletes, this kind of setups feels like home.

“So…” Bokuto begins.

“So.”

“Ah,” Bokuto chuckles, “I don’t know where to begin.”

Aran turns towards him and looks at him, he doesn’t want to miss the dimples back again on his cheeks.

“Well…” Aran knows exactly where to begin. He needs answers. “You could start by telling me why Ushijima-san came to see me at ten in the morning to tell me you were planning on bumping into me in a dark room full of people to replicate a scene from a famous shoujo.” Bokuto was heating up on sight, “Which you actually succeed on though, if we don’t look at it too closely.”

“Oh my- What? Did he say that to you? Did he overhear my conversation with Tetsu?” Bokuto hides his face in his hands, “Ugh I can’t believe Ushiwaka set me up!”

Aran snickers. “No he didn’t. Well not really.” Bokuto peeks through his fingers to look at Aran. “He just told me about the bumping in the dark part. He was very concerned by your behaviour by the way.” Bokuto sits up, resting his hands on his lap. “He told me about what might sound like a shoujo to me, but he actually had no idea what you two were talking about.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Bokuto fidgets, looking at his fingers, “It feels so stupid now.” He glances quickly at Aran then back at his hands, “It didn’t at first, but now I realise that I don’t know what you think about me.” He pouts and adds “It might have been bad if I trapped you and kissed you out of the blue without your consent.”

Aran freezes.

“Oh no!” Fuck! I didn’t-” Bokuto grabs Aran’s hands and faces him, “I didn’t mean that you did! You didn’t! I was the one who set up the plan and came to your room to- I don’t even know why I came to see you actually.” He lets go of Aran’s hands and puts his head right back into his hands. “Ugh, fuck, I sound like a damn stalker. You have every right to slap me if you want.” He sits back up and faces Aran again. “Go ahead I deserve it.”

Aran looks at him for a second and blinks. He has a hard time figuring out what is happening. Then, with the tension finally coming down, he bursts into an uncontrollable laugh.  _ Did Bokuto just apologize for something he didn’t have the time to do? _ Bokuto looks at him, mouth agape. Aran finds it very endearing and considerate. 

When he calms down, Aran finally asks “But, why did you try to reproduce a scene from Hana Yori Dango?”

Bokuto jolts. “Ah! Well,” he clears his throat and looks back at his lap, “I know you like mangas, I heard you talk about it sometimes, and when Tetsu mentioned it, I thought it would be super romantic if I reproduced a famous scene from a famous manga to seduce you.” He clears his throat one more time.

Aran cracks another laugh. He is wheezing. This is the cutest thing he has ever heard. He grabs Bokuto's hands and faces him with a smile widening on his lips.

“Bokuto, you are very, very cute,” he squeezes his fingers once, firmly, “Can I kiss you again?”

He feels red creeping to his cheeks while he waits for the answer. He let his eyes plunge into the gold of Bokuto’s pupils, drowning himself in their warmth.

“Yes,” Bokuto says in a breath.

And their lips join again in a soft kiss. Less heated than the previous one, but far more intimate and careful. Bokuto sighs into the touch and Aran thinks there is no other place he’d rather be.

  
  


***

  
  


Bokuto can’t believe Aran,  _ Ojiro Aran _ , asked to kiss him. He also can’t believe he _ is actually, currently, like right now _ , kissing him. 

Bokuto sighs with relief, he can feel Aran smiling against his lips. All the tension built from the beginning of the day flying away, leaving him like he’s made out of putty. Conquering the great Aran is like conquering Everest and a few meters more. He puts his arms around his waist and squeezes gently just to be sure everything is real.

When Aran parts away, Bokuto takes this chance to kiss his way along Aran’s neck and ends up burying his nose into his neck to smell the flowers he has been chasing for so long.

His plans don’t usually end up being this successful. Maybe he should have bad ideas like this more often.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m glad you read this fic, this ship is so rare it means the world to me you made it this far. \ (•◡•) /  
> Hope to see you soon on another work and until then, you can come talk to me on Twitter @Bagarella25 ~(˘▾˘~) (~˘▾˘)~


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